


Yet Again

by Chalkolate



Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Bio Organic Weapons | B.O.W.s, Building Up Trust, Canon Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fighting, I dont know how to tag, M/M, Slow Burn, They dont like each other at first, Zombies, but they will, first fic, oof, will add more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalkolate/pseuds/Chalkolate
Summary: After the death of Adam Benford, the government is on extremely high alert as to the safety of the new President as well as any signs of bioterrorism. Especially with the Arias incident, pharmaceutical companies and research facilities face heavy regulation. When a research lab is deemed suspicious of trying to produce new BOWs, it's up to Leon Kennedy once again to retrieve a sample. This time, however, he won't be alone like he's always been; the BSAA hero, Chris Redfield, will be assigned on the mission by his side, much to Leon's dismay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is my first fic, and I hope it's not too terrible haha. I plan for this to be a long story and that I'll actually finish it ^^; I think Chris and Leon deserves more screen time to work together and actually develop a friendlier relationship than in the games and movies :D  
> Note that I've only seen/played up to RE4 and 5 and also seen Vendetta, as well as played RE2 remake. I might not get some things right, so bear with me if I make a mistake ^_^
> 
> Also, I might go back to certain chapters to add in edits I feel are necessary, but they won’t really effect overall plot, but may effect character development and pacing, because I get too self conscious after I post a chapter oof, hope ya don’t mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He’s way too old for this shit, Leon thinks to himself. Maybe this mission will be the final time he tangoes with this bioterrorism nonsense, when he finally runs out of luck._

Leon paced around the corner of the hallway, scrolling through his phone aimlessly for something to do, to distract himself from the boredom. The afternoon sun filtered through the large victorian windows of the building, making it hard for Leon to see the screen of his phone clearly. Checking his emails and texts, he taps his feet, glancing around him. Men in suits stood guard at each of the doors, watching him fidget with his phone. He’s getting a little impatient and nervous at this point, having waited close to an hour for the President to finish his meeting; he should be used to it by this point, though, being called like a dog anytime they need a fighter. Yet he’s always exasperated but still ready to go when it comes to anything the government wants him to do. Always too official, always playing by the rulebook, always risking his life for another idiotic power struggle.

Once again, he’s back at the starting point, the beginning of the loop. Leon doesn’t even need to ask, and he knows there’s a new mission waiting for him: a new virus, a new villain, new BOWs. This time, there’s even a new President. Leon sneers to himself, unsure what exactly he found funny. One of the men in suits receives a transmission, radio buzzing.

“Mr. Kennedy, we’re ready for you,” he whispers to him in a low voice like this was a library. “Go ahead and enter the meeting room, if you would.”

“Right. Thanks,” Leon pushes his phone back into his pocket, adjusted his jacket collar, and steps into the meeting room.

Although the ceilings are high and the windows open and large, the space felt stifling, the air about as stuffy as the few officials sitting around the table. He finds himself sitting down in the only chair available, waving an awkward greeting to the others present. The only thing he got back were blank and judgemental stares and some hesitant nods from a possibly more socially adept person. Are the zombies he has to find in a lab, or are they in this meeting room? God, he hated being in here already.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the new president, Brian Marcel, a man in his 60s and already fully grayed, reaches a hand out for Leon to take. They exchange handshake and formalities, and Leon forced himself to look at least pleasant. Unfortunately, Leon didn’t have the same appreciation and friendship for Marcel as he did with Adam. He nodded as he shook Leon’s hand. Glad to see you back.”

“Me too, Mr. president. Always glad to be of service,” _That was a lie._

“Mr. Kennedy, I think you already have an idea of what you are here for today,” Marcel nods to him, reminding Leon of his high school principal. “There’s another mission we’ll need you to go on.”

“Let me guess, more BOWs? More viruses I have to take care of?” Leon sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The president seemed taken aback by his bluntness. He adds a “sir” to the end, just for the measure. It’s not everyday that one gets to be curt with the president. Not that they’ll do anything to him. Leon’s apparently far to valuable of an asset, already pumped with every vaccine one can ever need and spent years wrangling BOWs without dying. Probably one of the last few stragglers left alive in the DSO. As of now, anyways. He glanced around the room, waiting for someone to at least say something useful. Antagonizing government officials might not be the best idea, but they can’t be as bad as some of the monsters he’s seen.

The man continues, seemingly refusing to acknowledge the touch of exasperation in Leon’s tone. “There’s been sightings of illegal manufacturing of BOWs, and though we’ve already attempted an investigation with a warrant, our men found nothing. I believe only a hidden operation by other, more skilled agents would be of use.”

“And by agents,” Leon puts emphasis on the S. “You mean me?”

_Leon didn’t even have to ask, to be honest._

“Well, Mr. Kennedy, your track record has proven that you rise above many of my people in this field in regards to skill, training, and success with defeating BOWs.”

Leon knew that was just a fancy way of saying he’s been beating up zombies since before some of his men even knew they existed. Not that he minds too much, he’s used to it by now, if not preferring it. The world always needs saving. But maybe America could depend on someone else other than a sad depressed alcoholic in need of a break. 

The blonde woman sitting across from him picks up her briefcase at the president’s command, opening and removing stacks of photographs and files. When she hands them to him, Leon furrows his brows as he studies the contents of the papers. He picks up the pictures, inspecting the photos evidently taken from a low quality security camera. Those ones all depicted paused footage of a few workers loading distorted figures into a pile of bodies. Leon flips through the files, coming across a section with much clearer pictures of what seemed to be dead animals on lab tables. The pictures each showed some sort of deformed animal, rats, dogs, birds, insects, and even some unrecognizeable organism too distorted to name laying on trays. Compared to humans in the background of the pictures, the animals grew to sizes exponentially larger than they were meant to be. Each creature possessed the milky eyes and peeling flesh Leon was all too familiar with. However, when Leon looked closer, he couldn’t find traces of any sort of parasite in their bodies. 

“We have evidence of animal testing of an apparent new virus, and our labs have yet to be able to resolve and identify them from the few subjects we’ve managed to salvage,” The woman spoke. “All we’ve found are only discarded corpses from the edges of the facility.”

“Animal testing, huh?” Leon mutters, hunched over the papers. “How long until they move on to people?”

The room went quieter than it already was, somehow, and even the muttering from a few under their breaths paused. They’re just as sickened and worried by the prospects of another bioterrorism attack as anyone should be. 

“Well, Mr. Kennedy, these pictures are from two weeks ago, and at that point the facility seemed to already have caught on and became more careful with their disposal. Without a fresh, living host or a pure concentrated viral sample, we can’t began to even decode this strain.”

“Of course, of course.” Leon stares down at the mission file, picking through the papers. He skims through each report. He raised an eyebrow when he finally sees his mission briefing. “You’re saying that you’re sending me in, alone, to retrieve the sample of the new strain?”

“Well…” Marcel sighed. Leon found this man to be too indecisive and easy to intimidate. If it weren’t for the country’s instability he wouldn’t have even gotten the position. He guesses the Los Illuminados and some other organizations did do part of their job in screwing with the people. 

“Mr. President, I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

“I am aware, Mr. Kennedy, so this time I’ll be sure to send BSAA reinforcements to you,” Marcel replies. “However, there won’t be an entire team, as too many people risk alerting the facility. This is a stealth mission, but if necessary, you have definite permission of retaliating as well as killing the enemy.”

“Reinforcements. Right.” Leon rests his hands on his face. The BSAA is full of well-trained agents, Leon has no doubt about it. But the only ones he’s met hasn’t been too pleasant in the past. The other way around works too, though, with Leon not exactly trying his hardest to get on their good side. He thinks back to Claire’s brother, Chris. BSAA’s golden boy. If the agents he’ll be working together with is as stubborn as he is, Leon thinks he’ll be better off going alone again. “That’s some good news at least…”

“We’ll give you until tomorrow afternoon to prepare. And don’t worry about equipment, we have plenty prepared for you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Leon answers, shoving the case files back into the folder, standing up from his chair. He doesn’t leave a second glance at the government officials around the room, stepping outside. 

_He’s way too old for this shit,_ Leon thinks to himself. Maybe this mission will be the final time he tangoes with this bioterrorism nonsense, when he finally runs out of luck. His hand reaches in his jacket for his flask. 

_God, he needs a drink..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s not that Leon disliked Chris; in fact, if he had to choose someone to have his back in a fight, the BSAA agent before him would definitely be in the top three. It was just whenever Leon met up with Chris it’s always the worst time, worst scenario, the worst conversations. First having to choose between him and Ada, then being snatched from his precious government-mandated break while drunk on half a bottle of whiskey at nine in the morning. Leon takes it that Chris doesn’t return the feeling of trust; and even though Claire’s reassured him many, many times that there’s no hard feelings from her brother, Leon’s hesitant to believe it. Maybe it was his insecurities, or just his terrible judgment, but Leon knows Chris Redfield probably just thinks he’s a sad drunkard, too weak to deal with his feelings. Regardless, he’ll be on his best behavior this time. Maybe that’ll add some tally marks to Chris’ good side for once in a long time, the last time being the pleasant and candid moments they shared while on that helicopter ride, with Rebecca safe and sound in the seat across from them. He actually saw Chris smile at him for once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is much longer than the first one since i wanted to cram a nice fluff moment in there, hope you don't mind :)
> 
> I’ve also added edits to certain places to polish things up so don’t be alarmed if some parts aren’t the same, if you’re reading it again. The main plot is still the same though, of course ^^

The sky darkened, the sun sinking behind the trees at snail’s pace. The afternoon sun filtered through the branches, casting pellets of orange on the sparse greenery and dirt. Wind shuffled through and messed up Leon’s hair. He narrows his eyes as the sharp wind dried his eyes. 

Leon runs his mind through the briefing again. The plan was to move in the dark, when the cameras will be less likely to catch them; or so Leon hopes anyways. 

The government agent stood leaned against a tree, staring off into the distance at the building he was about to infiltrate in less than an hour. The light paints stark white of the building blood orange. _How ominous_ , Leon thinks. Strangely, he didn’t feel too nervous as one really should; the fluttering of his gut and blood pumping wild seemed missing from him. Leon fixed stray strands of hair and tucked them back in place. Maybe there’s something wrong with him; all the sense of danger had been beaten out of him long ago. He absentmindedly check his guns, going through each of them to see if they were all fully loaded. Leon came prepared; out of the stash of weapons from the government training facility he stopped by at, he picked out a few guns he can carry easily. Strapped to his belt was the Steyer TMP a fellow agent recommended to him, hanging at his waist. On his back, Leon attached a well greased Remington shotgun, saved just for up and close encounters, loaded with as many bullets as the thing can carry, and some more in his pouches just for the measure. And of course, his Silver Ghost, resting snug in his thigh straps, well polished and fully loaded. Leon unsheathed the handgun from its holster, turning it over in his hands and examining his distorted reflection in the metal. This one had saved him many times before, and Leon could call her his good luck charm, somehow helping Leon hit his target every time despite how shaky his hands could be with his veins full of fear. He pops the cartridge out of its socket, then back in a few times until he’s tired of fiddling.

Instead, he pulls out his cell; a conversation sounded nice about now. He hoped Claire wasn’t too busy as he types on the keypad with her number memorized and seared into his mind.

He puts the phone up to his ear, tapping his handgun absentmindedly, waiting for her to pick up, crickets and birds accompanying the beeps from the phone. 

“Hello? Leon?” Claire’s voice rings through, and she spoke with a pleased upward curve to her tone. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days, me and Sherry were getting a bit worried.”

“Well, you know, life’s busy; the paperwork Hunnigan sent me was a bitch to do, and if I didn’t finish them she would talk my ear off,” Leon chuckles. “How’ve you been? You and Sherry doing okay on your vacation?”

“It’s been really nice, actually. I don’t even realize how busy I was until I’ve stopped working. Sherry’s loving the food here; the people in Italy are real friendly and amazing at making food, much better than the States,” Leon can hear Claire’s smile through the phone, and he does the same, too, always being glad to hear her voice. “Speaking of food, Leon, your fridge better be stocked with more than Caesar salads and beer. You know I left that cookbook at your place for a reason.”

Well, if whiskey counted as more, it would technically be a yes. But Leon didn’t want to upset Claire again. To his credit though, Leon had been making an effort to try out some of the healthy foods, but when he often came home in the AMs, battered and bloody, a three minute microwave session sounded much less exhausting than having to make zucchini noodles from scratch.

“I’ve been trying to cook a little more between missions and all that, working out pretty well so far. Thanks for the book, Claire. I appreciate it,” he didn’t know if his half truth worked well, but he didn’t want to wait long enough to find out. “Anyways, I’m calling again because they’re putting me on another mission. More BOWs and viruses, apparently. I’m at the site, just killing some time before some BSAA agents get here.”

“Another virus? God, when does this stuff end?” Claire sighed. “At least they’re smart enough this time to send BSAA with you to help.”

“Yeah. I’ll try my best. No promises, though,” Leon grins, clipping his gun back onto his thigh strap. “You know, Chris is in the BSAA. Do they always take this long to arrive at missions or…?”

“Well, you’re gonna have to ask him; I’m off duty, sorry, can’t exactly call in to tell them to hurry their asses,” Claire laughs. Leon turns his head, noticing that the background noise of the woods grew louder, and soon he recognizes the crickets are being replaced by the rumble of an engine approaching. “Maybe next time I call him he can pass the word along.”

“I’m gonna have to call you back, someone’s here.” He says goodbye to Claire, readying his gun. Dim headlights shine towards him, making it hard to see who’s inside, and the camouflage-painted car rolled down the dirt trail Leon had drove through. 

He watches as the jeep slows to a stop beside his bike, and when the doors open and the headlights turn off, his eyes widen slightly, and he lowered his gun. 

Fate was funny. Or rather, when he thinks about it, it’s not exactly fate, just logic. He and Chris worked excellently together, even as just acquaintances back in the New York incident. Of course it made perfect logical for them to be put together on this mission. None of the agents at the BSAA was there to see when Chris scowled at a drunk Leon for refusing a mission, for wallowing and brooding. They were watching though, when he and Chris doubled up on Arias and blew him to all hell, “saving the world.” That’s probably why Chris Redfield was the one exiting that car, stepping towards him in all his muscle-bound glory. 

“What the hell…? Redfield?”

“Leon, good to see you again,” Chris puts the large gun in his hand onto his back, then reached out his hand for Leon, and the smaller man did the same. Chris shook his hands, patting his shoulder in a (hopefully) friendly gesture with a nod and a scowl pasted onto his face. Leon couldn’t exactly tell if it was something Leon did to offend him or just a classic case of RBF. “Looks like we’re in together on this mission.”

“Likewise; I think the people in HQ definitely liked our track record with Arias, guess we’re partners now, huh?,” Leon answers. Chris raises his eyebrows at “partners.” Figures; Leon’s not exactly comparable to his lady friends back on his previous missions, then. “At least this time they let me have my vacation first, heh. You think if we’re lucky we can make it back home by 10?"

Chris makes a noise of affirmation, though there wasn’t another word coming out of his mouth. God, this was awkward. Almost made Leon wish he was drunk, if it weren’t for the mission and the fact that golden boy Chris is right there and probably ready to deck him if he saw Leon’s flask.

It’s not that Leon disliked Chris; in fact, if he had to choose someone to have his back in a fight, the BSAA agent before him would definitely be in the top three. It was just whenever Leon met up with Chris it’s always the worst time, worst scenario, and the worst conversations. First having to choose between him and Ada, then being snatched from his precious government-mandated break while drunk on half a bottle of whiskey at nine in the morning. Leon takes it that Chris doesn’t return the feeling of trust; and even though Claire’s reassured him many, many times that there’s no hard feelings from her brother, Leon’s hesitant to believe it. Maybe it was his insecurities, or just his terrible judgment, but Leon knows Chris Redfield probably just thinks he’s a sad drunkard, too weak to deal with his feelings. Regardless, he’ll be on his best behavior this time. Though, there’s probably not gonna be any promises. Maybe that’ll add some tally marks to Chris’ good side for once in a long time, the last time being the pleasant and candid moments they shared while on that helicopter ride, with Rebecca safe and sound in the seat across from them. He actually saw Chris smile at him for once. 

Not that he needs Chris’ validation, out of all people. Just that he thinks he should at least be with someone more pleasant if he’s gonna be stuck on a mission. 

Chris stood beside him as Leon thinks, messing with his comms wrapped around his neck. Leon figuratively tossed his rambling thoughts over his shoulder. 

“Now should be around time the last workers leave the building, as soon as that last vehicle pulls off, we can go in,” Chris points towards a gray car parked in front of the building. “And since this is a stealth mission, I’m not exactly the best equipped one to go in first…”

“Yeah, like I said before, your stealth’s for shit, Redfield; nowhere near as good as your fighting, anyway,” Leon huffs, making a sound something close to laughter. “Let’s go in. I’ll make it past the entrance and then I’ll find a way to let you through. Sounds like a plan?”

“I’m on board,” the other man pulls out his handgun, leading the way and going around to the back of the facility. “There was a basic map of the place on the mission briefing; there should be a large vent down that way.”

Leon tails after Chris, eventually arriving at the air unit section with no troubles, with all the workers having left and the gray car finally pulling out. Though, who knows how many could be staying behind to guard their creations in case people like them came knocking on the door? 

Leon crouched down, pulling off a loose panel that seemed to lead up in a gentle slope to the inside of the building. Dim light flooded through the opening, clearly a sign that it at least had a destination and probably isn’t a nasty drainage pipe. Dusty as all hell, though, Leon noticed, as he bent down to peek into the vents. 

“I don’t know if you can fit through this thing, so,” Leon turns his back to the BSAA agent behind him, who was staring down at Leon, a brow raised in a strange expression. Leon holds back a terrible joke about staring at his ass and settles for another, slightly less idiotic one. “I’m going in. If I’m not out in half an hour assume I fell into a garbage disposal.”

“Careful, Leon, I’m not looking forward to writing a report about how you ended up at the bottom of a trash pile the first hour of our mission,” Chris chuckles. _That was a good sign,_ Leon thinks, as he crawls into the vents. He has to grip the grooves in the metal to be able to pull himself up, which were cutting into his finger pads. Leon made a great decision in wearing fingerless gloves.

The agent silently crawled deeper into the vent tunnels, and fortunately, there weren’t many twists and turns and led directly to the inside of the building. After a few minutes, Leon came across a panel of half open shutters on the bottom of the vent tunne, light shining through, and he removes them slowly as to not cause a racket. 

A blonde woman dressed in a white lab coat fiddled with a few flasks of dark red fluid. She placed each flask into their respective containers, enclosing them in a glass case that she slid shut before heading out the door. So not everyone had left the building yet. 

Fortunately, the woman took out her keycard and exited the room through some sliding doors. Leon waited for the clicks of her shoes against the floor to fade away into the distance, before hopping out of the vent opening and into the room. 

Looking around, the well-lit room was just a typical research lab. The machinery around him hummed at a low volume, and the air conditioning in the room was just a little too cold for comfort. A few lockers and freezers sat at the corners of the room. Nothing seemed out of place for this research lab; so far, anyways. He approaches the glass case the woman had put the flask inside; from his past experiences the dark liquid in the center of the room were probably something important. And according to the labels on each glass container that read “Plaga Experimental Strain N09152SB,” his instincts were correct. However, once again from his past experiences, things are never this easy…  
Before he even lays even a finger on the table, Leon decides he should let Chris in first. The agent rested a hand on his thigh where his Silver Ghost rested, padding around the room. There was the obvious front door, but when he walked up and tried to open it, he found there were no handles or any way to leave without the keycard the little scanner beside it prompted for. He decided he would let Chris in before doing any major exploring.

Instead, Leon turned behind him, and fortunately, a window that lead outside was right above a counter. And since Chris was on the other side of the window the only way he could get in was to smash the glass. Fortunately Leon easily unlatch the surprisingly simple lock and pushes the window open, sticking his head outside. He sees Chris to his right, waiting beside the vent entrance, messing with his bootstraps. Leon gestured and waved to get the BSAA agent’s attention.

“I found a way you can get in, come on,” Leon calls after Chris, who turned his head in alarm but walks over once he saw it was Leon. “I’m gonna go back in the vents to see if I can get the door open.”

He slinks back into the room and he hears Chris shuffle in behind him, pulling himself up into the window. Leon climbs back up into the vents while Chris observed the room behind him.

“Is this…the virus?” Leon hears Chris call to him from below, his voice echoing through the metal tunnels. “It looks like it’s a different variant of the Plaga you faced back in Spain. But It’s apparently not a parasite?”

“I guess not. It might be something similar…” Leon mutters, not knowing if Chris can even hear him. He’s already past the opening where he dropped down into the lab, and he now sees the main hallway through bars before him. He’s not going to be able to get past that, so he backs up into another turn, hoping it’ll lead somewhere useful. Indeed, there’s a flimsier panel that he can break through, but before he could open it, he hears Chris’s shouting and several gunshots. “Redfield?”

“Rats!” was all Leon got back from Chris. Either that was an interesting choice for a swear word or there are literal rodents attacking him. The latter is more likely, unfortunately. Leon mutters curses under his breath and makes his way back as fast as a man could in a tiny ventilation system that barely fit him. 

Leon crawls back to the opening into the lab, and he now sees Chris wrangling at least five infected rats each to the height of Chris's knees, who were all snarling with drool foam flying wildly out between their bared teeth. The large man below fires multiple successive shots, but only one was hit, with all the others sprinting around the room wildly. Leon then noticed that Chris had one of the sample vials in his hands, and the lockers across him were all opened. 

“Did you take the damn samples?” Leon shouts, getting ready to jump down to help kill the rodents. “I’m coming in!”

“No! Go back and find a way to open the door! I can handle this!” Chris yells back, and the moment he glanced back up at Leon a rat tried to tackle him, though Chris just kicked it away. They were at a standoff, the furry monsters finally backing away with their ears pinned back, waiting for another moment the man lets down his guard. “Go!”

Leon doesn’t argue and finds the other opening, punches out the panel and dives out onto the floor of the new room with a roll to soften his landing. He looks up to find he’s now in an empty hallway, and Leon sprints to his right where Chris should be, and finds the locked door, again prompting for an ID. He could hear sounds of crashing and grunts from the inside. Leon was tempted to shoot it out of frustration but that’d only decrease the chances getting Chris out, so he turns the other way with a huff, looking for anything that can open the heavy reinforced door. 

Several doors line the hallways, and only a few are unlocked. Leon charges in each of them to find any traces of a keycard. Most of them were either a storage room or a similar lab, and it seemed the room they found first was something important, being the only one on lockdown. Eventually, he finds an abandoned lanyard with a card clipped to it. _This better work,_ Leon thinks to himself. 

He rushes to the door and swipes the card against the scanner, and the metal door hissed and slid open at a slow pace. Chris slides through the bottom of the door as it was halfway open, and Leon grabs his arms to pull him out, sticking his gun under the opening door to ward off any remaining rats. However, there didn’t seem to be anymore left as Chris sits up. Leon didn’t hear anymore noise other Chris’s heavy breathing and him reloading his gun. 

“You good?” Leon says, panting, crouching down and offering a hand, which Chris gladly took to pull himself up. “Taking that sample must have set off some sort of security system. Knew it wouldn’t be that easy. At least we got the sample.”

“Yeah, I’m alright, thanks, Leon,” Chris dusts himself off, nodding at Leon. “I was too eager. Should’ve let you take the lead instead, huh? I’m setting off traps everywhere I go.”

“Still impressive that you managed to handle all those things by yourself,” Leon answered him, giving him a pat on his arm. “At least you got the sample for us, that’s the most important part of the mission, isn’t it?”

“Well, actually,” Chris holds out the vial with a grimace. “This sample was just a trap.”

“Trap? What do you mean?” Leon furrows his brow, looking at the vial in Chris’ hands. 

“This isn’t the real virus. It’s just a fake so whoever breaks in after hours get killed or at least incapacitated on the spot. The BSAA had done a runthrough of this place already, and I remember being in this room. They wouldn’t hide their virus in the open area of the lab, students come through every day,” Chris tosses Leon the vial. “We have to keep looking.”

“Knew it wouldn’t be so easy,” Leon sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes and putting the fake sample in his pouch. “I searched a few of the rooms, maybe they’ll lead us to where the real shit’s happening.”

With that, the duo continued down the hallway, though they didn’t find much in any of the unlocked rooms other than more normal labs or identical rooms with fake samples labeled to be the Plaga. 

“There’s an elevator at the end of the hall. This floor’s all clear. Let’s go,” Chris waves for Leon to stop poking around the drawers, and Leon notices a slight wince when Chris moved his shoulder.

“Hey, you good?” Leon follows. “Did the rats get you anywhere?”

Chris didn’t turn around to face him. “I’m fine; we can’t waste time here, we’ll have to finish the mission before morning when the staff gets back.”

When Leon paused for a little, Chris spoke again, sighing. “It’s just a scratch. I’ve already done enough to slow us down.”

“Chris,” Leon narrowed his eyes, his voice taking a more accusatory tone. “Show me your shoulder.”

When Chris pressed his lips in a thin line and didn’t respond. Leon didn’t have time either for stoicism from the man, especially if he was hurt. Or maybe it wasn’t even stoicism, just his dislike of Leon showing through. Leon pushed Chris over to a bench against the wall, right next to a vending machine in the room, making him sit down, irritated by the prospect of Chris choosing to take a bleeding wound over having Leon care for him. 

“You can’t just ignore injuries like that for the mission, we have plenty of the time; besides, the rats were infected, you never know if something got into your system,” Leon says, standing over Chris and finding his antiseptic and a wound pad from his pouch. He lifted one of Chris’ shoulder pads that was hiding the blood seeping through his sleeve. Chris helps him unbuckle the straps from his shoulders while Leon rolled back his sleeve to press a well-soaked cotton pad to the cut. Chris kept a straight face, seemingly unbothered by the stinging, though his hand did grip his knee a little harder. 

“It’s not from the rats, I got knocked over onto some sharp metal, so I won’t become a zombie anytime soon if that’s what you’re worried about,” Chris reassures him, voice quiet enough to be a mutter, head turned to watch Leon wrapping bandages over the wound pad.  
“I know you may have all the vaccines in you but tetanus is still a real thing, you know,” Leon kept pressure on the wound as he attempts to tie a knot with his other hand, not succeeding. “Still, virus or not, you’re still hurt. I can’t have you running around with a bad shoulder when I can easily patch you up.”

“I...thanks, Leon,” Chris reaches out his other hand to help finish up the knot. 

“I’m sure you’d do the same, Chris,” Leon offers a smile. Chris opened his mouth, but shout to hold back whatever he wanted to say. Leon decides not to ask, stepping back and waiting for Chris to follow. “Let’s go and beat up some BOWs just like last time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris says back with a slight smile, a sight Leon was glad to see. “Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He forces himself to think about those ugly-ass balding rats instead. However unpleasant they may be, at least it’s better than continuing his embarrassing thoughts pertaining to a certain Chris Redfield._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey I’m still writing and I haven’t given up halfway for once, yayyyyy.....
> 
> I’m planning on having many more nice and fluffy and possibly angsty scenes with each other, so just bear with the action chapter here ^^; 
> 
> Anyways, hope you like the chapter!

The two agents stood in the elevator, silent and tense. Despite this place being a supposedly evil lair for bioterrorists, pleasant music flowed through speakers on the ceiling. Leon punched the button for the lowest floor, the report having mentioned to investigate the basement level, since that’s the one part BSAA did not have legal access to previously. Leon leaned against the corner of the space, arms crossed and gripping his handgun. Chris stood in the center of the elevator, still and eyeing the door with brows knitted tight. 

The music did nothing to calm the him down. The low hum of the elevator raised the tension, and the smooth jazz honestly just made the whole ordeal more of a stressful situation instead. Leon found himself hyper-fixating on each tile on the floor and at the specks of dirt on his boots. His breathing and heartbeat were way louder now that he’s got nothing else to focus on. Rather than having to deal with becoming aware of his own breathing Leon settles to watch the only being in the elevator with him, glancing up at Chris through his hair.

The other man tapped his fingers against his crossed arms, and as Leon watched the movement, he wondered what the guy did to keep up his muscles. Chris’s forearms were huge compared to his own, and with them folded the definition showed through much better. Leon studied the curves and indents of his arms, noticing a few scars here and there pink against his skin. Personally, Leon preferred his own lean composition; he found his build much more suited to stealth operations. However, the much larger size fitted Chris, who was usually placed in a different type of work, with his method of barreling down and overpowering enemies with brute strength working out for him just fine. 

Leon has to admit though, Chris’s muscles does keep people’s attention, and though usually that’s something Leon hates, that’s what’s probably gotten the BSAA golden boy laid many times. Leon held back a smirk at the thought of Chris trying to flirt. Claire’s told him plenty about her brother, about the several bad attempts the other man had over flirting in the past; the older Redfield was not exactly the type to take the initiative, so he’s heard. Girls fall all over for him, yet he will either be too dense to realize or just plain won’t want to admit it. Sometimes,Chris tends to make the dumbest and most unconvincing excuses to gently let a suitor down, according to Claire. Leon has to ask him about that later, since it’ll surely embarrass the guy. 

That’s one thing Leon’s better at, coming up with quips to catch girls’ attention. Although Chris fits the definition of a conventionally attractive man to the fullest, even a bit over the brim sometimes, he would definitely be able land himself any girl without even trying too hard. Yet, Leon’s never seen anyone romantically involved with Chris the time they’ve known each other. Leon wondered if he’s plain not interested in women. Maybe Chris just didn’t have the time and energy.

Meanwhile, Leon’s there, living alone in his apartment; he’s still waiting for someone that, though he didn’t want to admit, probably won’t ever stay for longer than a few minutes at a time. 

Trying to stifle his thoughts, Leon trailed his eyes up Chris’s arm to the bandage he applied. The blood had darkened in the past few minutes, though it still seemed wet. Chris kept his short sleeves rolled up, and now that Leon studied him, what he previously thought of as the bulk of his armor really was just all Chris. To be honest, Leon hadn’t studied Chris in such detail before. In fact, not really even another man. Leon had always found muscles attractive, and Chris Redfield certainly fit the bill for his standards.

Heat rose to the DSO agent’s face when he realized he was thinking about Chris in _that_ way, even thinking he’s good-looking. _Unbelievable, Kennedy._

Leon resisted slapping himself out of nowhere as to not weird out Chris, and instead bit his lips hard to hold back any weird expressions, leaning his head down further.

_Alright, fine,_ Leon admitted to himself. Chris Redfield was attractive, in a gruff kind of way. Leon’s not going to deny that. Though that doesn’t mean Leon’s going to like him any better; in fact, that thought just made him see Chris as more of an obstacle. Leon couldn’t quite place the particular feeling jerking at his gut at this moment; he placed it as mere irritation at his mind admitting to another perfect part about BSAA golden boy. Fucking hell. Even in his head the guy manages to trip him up, though there’s really no one else to blame other than Leon’s own brain. He desperately wills the red from his cheeks to go away sooner.

He forces himself to think about those ugly-ass balding rats instead. However unpleasant they may be, at least it’s better than continuing his embarrassing thoughts pertaining to a certain Chris Redfield.

After running the image of filthy, pus ridden giant rodents bursting out of lockers, Leon takes some time to actually think about the logistics of it all.

It all made little sense. What kind of lab kept their obviously mutated rats in the locker, in the top floor, where hundreds of people passed through? _Especially_ after being investigated on suspicion of producing bioweapons. 

Leon watched the occasional bands of light filter through the cracks between the elevator doors, and from what Leon could see the elevator moved slowly, taking its sweet time. Not exactly ideal for a time sensitive mission, especially when there’s supposedly over thirty floors below ground they’re supposed to ride past.

Like Chris said, it had been two weeks since the BSAA’s visit to here. They couldn’t have inferred the exact date a mission would happen for Chris and Leon to infiltrate the place. No one knew except for the DSO and BSAA staff...

...Which was _exactly_ what makes the prospect concerning: they have a spy. 

He or she came from either the BSAA or DSO, and both possibilities seemed equally unappealing. Though, he can rule the President out, since he’s the one initiating this investigation in the first place, but there’s no telling if he could have carelessly leaked information. The meeting between him and the rest of the informants might have some clues, but Leon doubted he could deduce if a spy hid among the people he met in that room that he didn’t even care to remember. 

One of the major people that participates the greatest in the plan was Hunnigan, but Leon pushed the thought of her being a traitor out of his head within milliseconds of even considering it. His friendship with Hunnigan definitely did not make his judgement biased, though Leon knowing her better than many does strengthen his case for her. A woman who dedicated her life, working tirelessly to help the world, suddenly selling information to BOW organizations? There was no way. 

Then there was Claire, who he called just an hour earlier. He hadn’t told her any particular information, but he did divulge that he was out on a mission.

But there’s no way Claire would do that, obviously not. His mind was just on a tangent, a nonsensical one, at that.

_Hopefully, anyways._ He did not like suspecting any of his friends, but… 

Leon cuts off his thoughts there before he tarnished his trust in more people he liked. 

There’s one more person, however, that Leon could say was _not_ the traitor here. Chris Redfield has too much heroism in his blood to even consider that, especially with him being the only other person on the mission. If anything, they’d rather kill Chris than go through even the effort of getting him on their side. 

He needs radio Hunnigan, though he doubts he’ll get any reception down here through all the floors. Would’ve thought of that earlier… if he wasn’t so distracted with patching up Chris. To be fair, he couldn’t exactly let him start fighting with a wound that could easily tear up or get infected. Leon didn’t know why Chris refused getting help from Leon, but in the end, he felt satisfied that the other had let him, albeit with his head turned down and unwilling to look up at the DSO agent, possibly embarrassed.

Maybe Chris was too used to being the one doing the saving.

The elevator interrupts his thoughts, a pleasant ding jolting Leon out of his contemplation. The doors slid open, the speakers announcing in a soft, computer-generated female voice, “Arriving at--base floor lab.”

“Well, here we are,” Leon pushed himself off the wall, stepping out the elevator by Chris’s side. Leon hears the sound of the doors sliding closed behind them. “Ready, Redfield?”

“No turning back now,” Chris takes the initiative, and without a second thought he marches forward, boots clicking against the floor. The metal he carried on him clinked together heavily, deafening compared with Leon’s quieter stride. Leon wanted to point out Chris’s lack in the stealth department, but he knew jokes right now won’t be appreciated by the other. He pressed on, trailing close behind.

The hallway’s ceiling pressed low, though the space still allowed the two to stand side by side without touching shoulders. Fluorescent lights set on the walls glowed a soft yellow, giving the room a light haze. A few meters before them, doors remain shut, with a helpful sign that read _decontamination required before entrance._ Leon paused, wary of any sounds, but the only other noise was Chris’s heavy footsteps. They approached the door, and Leon tenses for a moment as Chris presses a the red glowing button that indicated opening the handleless doors. Leon flinched and raised his gun in a flash as the lights bloom into a blinding violet, slight heat radiating from the bulbs. Chris jumped, sweeping his gun around the room, ready. 

Leon hears a hiss, the only warning before clouds of cold mist sprayed out of pipes hidden in the corners of the halls. Leon holds his breath with his hand covering his mouth and nose. Chris did the same, watching Leon. 

“Disinfectant distributed. Please enter.” A moment after the robotic announcement, the doors before them slid open, the lights returning to the yellow.

“Fucking scared me…” Leon whispered, wiping away some of the remaining wetness in his hair, before staring straight ahead again, watching for any enemies that might leap out and try to take a chunk out of him and Chris. The hall opened up to pale walls, eye burning white lights, and spotted beige tiles, and with the air smelling like antiseptic, the place most definitely resembled a hospital. Air conditioning whirred in the background, and the two glanced around, turning each corner with bated breath. Doors line the hallway with nothing to indicate their purpose other than their designated numbers, printed and hanged above their tinted windows. Leon’s mind flashed back to NEST, noting their similarities before he blinked away the thought to focus on their mission.

The lab so far was empty; however, Leon somehow would have prefered to at least encounter something rather than deal with the tension. He didn’t know if or when any of those doors will have monsters bursting out, or if he will see a horde infected right around the corner. 

As though his thoughts came true, Chris gestures to Leon, waving him forward and putting a finger to his lips. Leon stepped around him. He followed Chris’s line of sight, tracing his eyes up to the ceiling. 

A licker greeted him, its exposed flesh in stark contrast against the blinding white of the lab. It sat itself right overhead, cleaning itself with that gigantic tongue. Leon could hear the wet noise, and he scrunched up his nose, he backing away into the wall. Leon drew a line at his neck with a hand, then motioned for them to keep moving. Chris nods, and the two held their breaths as they stepped around the unaware licker. Chris kept his gun on it while Leon moved ahead, leading both forward. Before him greeted the first open door they’ve seen in the entirety of this basement endeavor, the interior barely visible with the door only cracked open. 

They tiptoe excruciatingly slow, and Leon pushes the door open, clicking the door shut after he and Chris both step in. Leon lets out a breath and turns, before being greeted by a pack of rotting dachshunds, eyes milky and many having their organs exposed and hanging. 

“Fucking hell, of course this is happening…” Leon cursed and gritted his teeth. The dogs snap their heads to him at the sound, ears pricked and heads twitching. Leon noticed that each had chains around their necks that kept them from leaving the room, but they were still long enough for them to get to the door where the two agents held their ground. The canines immediately start snarling, one impatient dog charging, and Leon presses hard on the trigger and put a few bullets in its rotting head. It sprawled out on the ground, jaw now unhinged and hanging by the tendons. Chris followed, a rifle aimed at the beasts, picking off two in the back as more began approaching, his rifle having much better luck in sealing the deal.

“Goddammit, just our fucking luck,” Leon shouts over the cacophony of gunshots and chains rattling. He fired a few more shots before having to reload, pushing a new magazine into his handgun.

“I’ll cover your back,” Chris says between shots, some missing due to the dogs dashing wildly. “Just distract them and get them still as you can, I’ll pick them off!”

Leon complied, sweeping a round of bullets at their legs to break them, and seconds later, Chris would come in with the kill as the infected dogs crumple to the ground. The two pushed further into the room, finding a rhythm in the fight with Leon leading and Chris supporting from behind. 

It was when only two dogs were left that the door behind them burst open, and judging by the inhuman scream behind him the licker heard the commotion. Leon glances behind him, and the monster lashed out its tongue wildly, knocking items off everywhere. 

“Dammit!!” Leon growled, and his momentary lapse of attention earned him a charging dog which he promptly kicked away. “Chris!”

“I’ve got you!” Chris had pulled his semi-automatic from his back, and Leon turned his attention back to the dogs. He pressed his back against Chris, and he could feel the kickback of the gun as the other man fired. Leon shot one dog in the eyes, and that seemed to finally get it to go down, though he had spent his last bullet in the clip. He opted to switch for his shotgun instead, feeding the last dog’s brain full of metal. 

Behind him, Chris sprayed the licker with bullets. Leon turned and came up to his side. The licker tackled Chris, and fortunately its talons ended up blocked by Chris’s gun, the point mere inches away from his face. Leon’s heart leapt to his throat. 

“Chris!” Leon yelled. He unsheathed his combat knife and drove it right up in the licker’s open mouth, letting go when the licker thrashed in pain. Chris elbows it onto the ground, and Leon split the monster’s head open with his shotgun.

The licker stilled, and the two released their triggers, the guns now burning hot to the touch from overuse. 

Sweat beaded on Leon’s forehead, and his undershirt stuck against his back. Chris released a puff of breath as he put his gun back on his straps. 

“Let’s look around. Maybe there’s something useful in here that’s worth our time,” Chris wandered deeper into the room, and Leon instead found the light switch. The lights flickered on, and Leon could see now that they were surrounded by kennels and machinery, as well as iron bars separating the animal section with electronic equipment. Chris stood before them, gripping the metal to test its strength. Leon stepped over the canine corpses, hoping they’re dead for good, and approached Chris.

“I think we might need to go around. The computers in there might have data we need, and I see a door on the other side,” Leon said. He picked up a ring of keys the right of the bars and looked back at Chris, dangling the keys up before him. “And good for us, I guess; some idiot left the keys here.”

“This is a research lab, how can they let these monsters roam around?” Chris nudges a body with his foot as they headed out the door. “I don’t really believe a bunch of scientists will be able to fight them off like us?”

“They must have some way of controlling the lickers; it’s been done before,” Leon answered. “Nothing’s damaged, not even a scratch, when we got in. That’s not the zombies I know.”

The monsters seemed almost… docile, before they started fighting. They seemed like guards left to patrol the place. 

“There’s probably more crawling all over the place, we have to be careful,” Chris spoke with a lowered voice. He opened the door, looking out to make sure the halls are empty, exiting before motioning for Leon to do the same.

They explored the halls in an almost comfortable silence. Well, as comfortable as one can be in a zombie-infested lab. Leon had always been alone all his missions, with the one exception ending up a disaster and him returning to exclusively solo missions again. Though, this time, working with Chris didn’t feel like his previous partnerships. He had none of the worry of Chris’s capabilities, none of the hesitation, and as Leon followed Chris, watching him move, he realized that he would trust Chris with his life.

With his old team, he spent the time worrying about their safety. And the moment he caved in and let them split up, each eventually…died, some alone, some even on Leon’s watch. Some Leon had found, their uniform still on but their eyes gray and dead.

But back there, in the heat of the moment, the fear was gone and replaced with trust. Even with a licker behind him, Leon didn’t look back. However stubborn and unpleasant the guy was, Leon can confirm that Chris was a fantastic teammate at the very least. Provided that he wasn’t policing Leon on his habits, of course. He would rather fight ten lickers rather than tell Chris, but Leon’s actually glad to have him here to keep company. 

Leon glanced at Chris, then moved his eyes forward again before the other noticed. They had a job to do. Though, Leon dreaded the end to this short moment of peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to constructive criticism, anything that can help me get better. I hope you like the story so far :)


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